


A Day at the Fair

by GoatBazaarofFics, protect-him (protect_him)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Anders Being Anders, Anders is a cop, Cameos, F/M, Fenris is done, Humor, M/M, Modern Thedas, Urban Fantasy, and he's awful, someone help Fenris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-27 04:27:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18189770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoatBazaarofFics/pseuds/GoatBazaarofFics, https://archiveofourown.org/users/protect_him/pseuds/protect-him
Summary: All Fenris wants to do is go on a nice date with his husband, but life never works out that way for them.





	A Day at the Fair

 

“Where is he?”

Fenris checked his phone more times than he could count in the past four hours. He claimed a bench in the middle of Junk Food ally, and he was nursing his second beer. After ten years of being with a cop, he should be used to Anders being late. But an undercurrent of dread settled in his stomach and gnawed at him more than an annoyance. It was Anders’s day off but that meant little.

And this morning, when he promised to meet at eleven, he didn’t say why he was being called in. That worried Fenris the most. But he didn’t get the call that plagued his nightmares. He didn’t get a text telling him to go home, their date was canceled. Anders will make it up later—and he usually did. He didn’t get anything. And the longer the day went without a message the more worried he became.

His phone buzzed and he sighed. It’s not Anders to his dismay.

Isabela: _You two need to visit me before I leave town! I got to tell you about this guy I met a bar two nights ago! He went to toooown!! Bitch broke the bed!_

Fenris ignored most of what she said, uncaring whos she screwing this time. _We will. We just can’t predict Anders’s schedule._

Isabela:C _awww why did he become a cop again_?  
_He was better off as a stripper ;)_

And that’s the sign he’s been on his phone for too long. Rolling his eyes, he stuffed it in his pocket. He stretched his knees and winced when the left one popped. He should have brought his tablet and took the time to write. Take notes on the crowd. Study the Qunari mother helping her son tie his shoe. Describe the high-schoolers pushing each other playfully near the slushy stand. Varric always told him to bring a pen and paper everywhere he went, not knowing when inspiration would strike. But he was never good at following his old professor’s advice.

The summer heat beat down Fenris’s exposed ears and neck. The beginnings of a serious sunburn had crept on his poor ear tips. At least Anders was a spirit healer. The few benefits that came to dating a mage.

“And there’s the love of my life!”

All to familiar voice reached him and the body he’s known for ten years pressed against his back, hugging him close And he regretted wearing nothing but a thin white t-shirt. His back was on fire.

Soft lips against his cheek. Despite the pain, a smile blossomed across his face.

Anders slid next to him, the wooden bench creaking under his tall frame. “You’re redder than your ugly ass Jeep.”

And in one sentence, Fenris’s relief and happiness to have his husband with him vanished. “Why were you called in this morning.”

He snorted in disgust but didn’t answer right away. He swiped Fenris’s beer and finished it off. “A bunch of bureaucrat bullshit. Some fucking rookie didn’t file a case right and before some murderous nug-humper gets off on a technicality, so he called me to fix his mistake.”

Fenris frowned. “Does your captain know about that? Is that even legal?”

He barked out a laugh. “It’s only bad if you get caught and fuck no, Justice doesn’t know. And he won’t find out. Oh, don’t give me that look,” he whined. “I get enough shit from Justice. He’s always riding my ass. Which I don’t need because I have you to fuck me into the mattress.”

If Fenris’s face wasn’t red before, it was now. “Don’t talk like that in public.”

Anders threw his arms in the air. “Great, you’re sounding like him now. A no-fun jerk.” He coughed and mimicked Justice’s baritone voice. “‘Anders, that that’s not procedure.’ ‘Anders don’t use excessive force.’ ‘Anders, the perp is going to sue us. Don’t do that.’ ‘Anders, you can’t punch out your fellow cops.’ ‘Anders, you can’t steal from the evidence room.’ It was a sandwich. It was going to go bad!”

Fenris rubbed the bridge of his nose. “How did you become a cop again?

“Oh, so you’re taking Justice’s side? That I’m a bad cop?” he accused. “I thought you didn’t like him because he’s a spirit.”

“I didn’t say you were a bad cop, you‘re questionable,” he said, diplomatic. “And I do like him. He makes me nervous though.” He twirled his empty bottle of beer. “He’s a good officer and he’s done pretty well as captain, but you two work together a lot. Aren’t you concerned he might try to possess you?”

Anders cooed. “Aww, you’re worried another man being inside me.” Fenris squeezed his eyes shut and counted to ten. “Look, babe, he’s a spirit. Not a demon. He has his own body. He’s practically human now anyway. There’s no need to worry about him possessing me.” Anders’s brows knitted together in thought. “Hey, if he did possess me, do you think I’d get a promotion?”

“I think you’d be executed,” he deadpanned. “If you’re lucky.”

Anders rubbed his forehead and winced. “Oof, I don’t think I’d look good with a sunburst and a shaved head.” He stretched and got off the bench. “Let’s get more alcohol, I can’t get called into work if I’m drunk.”

Fenris blew a strand of hair out of his face and followed. Anders predictably wandered to the beer tent. The dwarven woman behind the stand asked to see his wrist band before taking their order.

“Do you have anything a bit stronger than beer?” Anders asked, “Like tequila?”

Her eyes wandered to Anders ’s face to his belt where his badge was clipped at. “Should I be giving you anything harder?”  
  
“I’m off duty,” he wrapped his arm around Fenris’s shoulder. “I’m on a date with my sexy, sexy husband.”

The declaration shocked her. “I never met a gay cop before.” Regret replaced her shock expression the moment the words left her mouth.

“Still haven’t. I’m bi,” he admitted with ease. “Anyway, I’ll take two bottles of whatever is the hardest thing you can give me and something light for him.” He leaned forward and whispered. “He can’t handle his drinks...gets into fights.” And easily moved out of the way of Fenris’s elbow.

The vendor laughed and got their drinks while he dug for cash. He leaned against the wooden stand. “Where to next? Other than food, obviously.”

Fenris stuck his tongue out in thought. “There’s a carnie show later tonight. Dancers, dare-devil cyclists. I think a Rivaini seer is going to be there.”

Anders’s lips puckered in interest. “Yeah Justice told me about that. He was here last night with some chick he met at a bar.”

He did a double take, brow raised. “Justice went to bar? To pick up women?”

“I helped him set up a profile on a dating site,” he explained. He exchanged the money for the drinks. “Thank you!” And they wandered over to a food truck serving fried potatoes and burgers. In between ordering his food and chugging one of his drinks, he finished his story. “I guess he got a date with a woman who lives out of town. They met at the bar and they went back to the hotel. I uh...I don’t think he’s ever done it before. I didn’t know spirits could _do it._  But he had a good time, at least according to him.” He shrugged.

Fenris shook his head. “Unbelievable. I got nothing for that,” he muttered under his breath. He accepted the food while Anders paid. “We got dinner, we got drinks. I don’t want to sit down again for you to eat.”

“We don’t have to.” he took the food and enchanted it to float in front of him. “Let’s see what the vendors are selling, we can come back for the delicious, sugary treats later.”

Fenris followed after Anders. He struggled to keep up, he always did. With Anders’s long legs and his cop training, he was fast. And he knew how to maneuver through a crowded street fair after a decade of weaving in and out of far worse obstacles.

When he caught up, Anders was admiring bottles of hot sauce, rows of summer sausage, and packages of fine Orlesain cheeses. “Fenris! Do we need any—

“No.”

“We’ll take a bottle of the ghost pepper, the Archedemon’s Breath, and Tevinter Summer Heat,” Anders ignored him. “Oh, and one of each of the sausages and two honey cheese spread.”

Happy with his buy, and happier to have Fenris pay for it, they moved to the next table. Cheap, overpriced jewelry pulled Anders’s attention. That is until the Dalish running the stand tried to claim the plastic gems were enchanted to a group of naive city elves. Even Fenris felt obligated to illuminate charlaton’s lies and lit his brands to expose there was no magic involved.

The next few tables. Anders bought a new purse, a cloth bag that formed the bisexual pride colors. Fenris bought the matching beanie at Anders’s prodding. They paid a cartoonist to draw a couple’s portrait and got their fortune read. Anders was apparently going to get the shock of his life tonight and Fenris will experience great pleasure.

No calls interrupted their date, and Anders drank more to prevent him from leaving.

“Justice does know you can cure your drunkenness, right?” Fenris questioned as for their way toward the carnie games and rides. He munched on a crispy elephant ear. The fried bread melted on his tongue.

“Shit, probably,” Anders said, shrugging. Anders drunk was like Anders high. Laid back and sleepy, only more horny and less paranoid about the Man. Despite being the Man but Fenris knew better than to tell him that. “I’m hoping he doesn’t—Maker’s breath, Fenris! Look at that cute kitty!” He squealed and ran off.

Clearly, Anders wasn’t drunk enough he could still run that fast and in a straight-ish line.

The mage was enthralled by massive cat pillows, all different colors and different expressions. He pointed to the scowling blue-eyed cat. “Aww, Fen, that one has brown fur and looks like Seb after I shot Grand Cleric Elthina! I want it!” He turned toward Fenris, begging worse than a dog at a dinner table.

“If you want one, you need to play the game.” A human, a lanky man but definitely shorter than Anders, stood on the other side of the counter. On the wall behind him were rows of bright balloons. “If you hit three, you get any one of these cats. All you need to do is pay twenty-five bills.” He flashed a charming grin. Fenris wanted to knock his teeth out.

“Give us a second,” he said. He grabbed Anders’s arm and dragged him off to the side. “You don’t need them. We bought too much today.”

“Uh, I’m a detective. You’re a prolific writer,” Anders said. “We got the money to waste to play that stupid game.”

“No, we don’t.” He argued. “These kinds of games are always rigged. It’s like playing Wicked Grace with Isabela or Varric. If you play, you lose.”

“But if you play, you’ll win.” He coaxed.

“I’m not playing,” he put his foot down.

A spark flickered in Anders’s amber eyes and a wicked grin crept across his face. Fenris silently groaned. He knew what was coming. Anders leaned against him, kissing his neck. “If you do this for me.” His breath tickled against his skin. “I’ll drag you behind one of these tents and suck your dick like your dick hasn’t be sucked before.”

“Okay, first,” he held up one finger, pushing Anders back. “You can’t keep thinking that shit will work on me every time you want something. And second,” his defiance died in his voice. “I gotta stop letting that shit work.” He ignored the mage’s cackle and a cocky smile.

He turned the corner of the tent and slapped the cash on the counter. The smug prick handed him three darts. “If I suspect magic’s involved, you don’t get your prize or a refund,” he warned and stepped out of the way.

Fenris smirked.“I notice you didn’t mention lyrium.”

 

Fenris won, of course. Anders got his pillow and he was good on his promise. After twenty minutes behind a secluded alleyway far from the crowds, they emerged satisfied no one knew what they were up to. Undoubtedly, a cop sucking his husband off in public would cause a local uproar and thirty seconds of viral national news.

Anders clung to his hard cider, his cat, various other items they picked up, and new bag. A massive grin on stretched across his face as they returned to the junk food alley. “We should get funnel cakes. Or fried Oreos. No! Fried ice cream.”

“Why don’t we get all three?” Fenris suggested. He knew they would anyway, why not cut to it.

“I don’t have any more cash. I gave the last bit to that Dalish lady selling hemp bracelets,” he whined. He pouted. “Do you have enough?”

He did because he always carried cash. He slipped into his pocket and pulled out his last fifty. “I swear I spoil you.”

“But I’m pretty, you have to spoil me, Daddy.” He batted his eyes and blew a kiss at Fenris.

He gave the blonde a flat look. “You’re five years older than me.”

“Okay, that’s a fair point, but you’re richer and I’m younger at heart!” Fenris refused to acknowledge him.

They found their old bench after getting food. Fenris opted to grab real food, a pile of ribs and roasted potatoes, and let Anders consume all the sugar. “Isabela wants to meet up before she leaves town.”

Anders’s mouth was stuffed but that never stopped him from talking. “Tell her I have a real job and I can't waste my time on hookers and blow. I mean, I wish I could, but apparently, cops aren’t allowed to have fun.”

“Isabela doesn’t do drugs,” he argued. He texted it to her anyway.

“Bullshit! I know she does drugs. And she isn’t puffing elfroot like regular people,” he countered. “Not accusing her of doing the really hard shit, but I know she drops acid and ecstasy. I know because I used to deal it to her. How do you think I paid for college? It wasn’t all just stripper money.”

Fenris shook his head, “you’re a terrible cop. You’re going to get embroiled in a scandal one day and our lives are going to be over.”

“I shot a grand cleric and her Templar puppet in the middle of Hightown during the day. At the Viscount’s funeral,” he said casually. “If I can come back from that, I think people can forgive I sold dope and other drugs when I was twenty.”

He gestured at nothing, leaning forward. “You’re banned from the Free Marches. And Orlais.”

Anders’s eyes darted around. “How’s that a bad thing? Fuck Orlais. And Sebastian can suck a dick. I don’t even like him. The one Seb in my life is the Prince of Pawhaven. Right, Seb?”

He looked to his side and he was greeted by nothing. The plump stuffed-animal was gone.

He looked under the table, behind him, in his bad--despite it being too small. “Where’s my stuff-animal?”

“Did you leave it at the food stands?” Fenris questioned. “You are drunk, maybe you left it?”

“I’m not that drunk!” he exclaimed. “Shit, I’m going to look for it. Don’t eat my Oreo!” and scrambled off his bench.

“I’m eating it!” he called after Anders. And he did.

He pulled out his phone and waited for the blonde’s return. “Huh,” he muttered, reading a news article. Prime Minister Alistair got into a bar fight with his dead brother’s father-in-law. Clicking on it, it seemed quite a scandal for the international community, Fereldens greatly approved of Alistair’s antics. “Good for him. Loghain’s an ass.”

“I can’t find it!” Anders stormed over. He grabbed his bag and the remaining food.

“Alright,” Fenris drew the word out. “I’ll get you a new one. It’s probably cheaper online anyway.”

“I don’t want a new one, I want that one,” he spat. “Now let’s go! We’re going to report this!”

“Report what?”

“Uh, a theft! Someone stole it.” Anders’s tone dropping into his condescending ‘I’m speaking to a brain-dead child’ tone. It pushed all of his buttons at once but after ten years, he knew better to retaliate. The mage had a terrible habit of escalating arguments into screaming matches.

Placating Anders was his only option until it gets out of hand. And it will. Sighing, he got up and followed after his lover. “I want a divorce,” he muttered. He followed as always did when Anders was determined.

A group of cops in uniform were at the head of the gates. They were talking to an elderly elven woman and a younger man, a human. They’re sharp bone structure and dark features showed their relation. Volunteers, based on their badges. But it was possible they were running the fair or in high enough position to be talking with the cops. Each one wore grim expressions. He had a bad feeling more was going on than just a stolen stuffed animal.

“Theron!” Anders called and one of the officers turned around. He was Dalish, and if Fenris knew his Vallaslin, the swirling tree pattern printed on his forehead was for Mythal.

The shorter elf’s face broke into a wide grin. “Anders! What are you doing here?” He came closer and inhaled. “Hitting the bottle apparently.”

“Well you know, I’m off duty and I can’t get my date interrupted!” He said. Fenris leaned against a pool and watched Anders and the other officers. In Kirkwall, he never got along with the other cops on the force. They worked too closely with criminals and the radical hate group, Templars, much to his disdain. Corruption sowed seeds in every position of power, but it worse in the City of Chains. Even good cops like Aveline let harden criminals slide if their name was Hawke.

Here in Amaranthine, Anders was far more relaxed around his fellow officers. Fenris was happier too. Anders was reaching forty and it showed the way his golden hair was streaked with silver. He wasn't getting any younger and the stress working wasn't good for him.

Theron laughed. “I feel that. So what brings you to us.”

He crossed his arms, trying his best not to pout in front of his co-workers, but failed miserably. “My husband won me a souvenir and someone stole it.”

Eyes flickered toward him and he gave a tiny wave.

A burly human, who resembled a walking stereotype of a cop than both Anders and Theron, swore. “Shit, this asshole is stealing from officers now?” He rubbed his hand over his shaven head.

“Now, now we don’t know if Anders’s case is connected,” Theron reasoned.

“Connected with what?” Anders pressed.

“There’s been a string of thefts today. Nothing serious, but enough to get the people annoyed. Stuff-animals, fake jewelry, t-shirts, keychains, hand-crafted soaps, hats—

“The hats are a big one. The crazier the hat, the most likely it’s been stolen,” the human interjected.

“And the weird thing is, whatever’s been taken, gets returned,” Theron explained. “Except the hats.”

Anders gave Fenris a look, shrugging. “So this person has a hat fetish?"

If the mage wasn’t drunk off tequila and hard cider, he would recognize the significance on the hats. Fenris did. He knew who exactly took Anders’s stuffed animal. He pulled out his phone and texted her, barely picking up on the rest of the conversation.

“It’s causing distress in the patrons,” the elven woman cut in. She stepped closer to be more engaged in the conversation. “My name is Neria and this’s my boy, Tom. Even if the items are being returned, minus the headwear, people won’t be coming back tomorrow. Who’s to say this isn’t a precursor to the thief stealing cellphones, wallets, or purses? What if they go after wedding rings next? I’m happy my sweet Jowen isn’t around to see this.”

“My dad’s in Antiva for a business trip,” Tom clarified.

Anders nodded slowly, “well that’s better than what I thought.” He turned his attention to Theron, “anything else?”

“Nothing on the thief, we can’t figure out who it is,” he said. “We did have a report about a man performing...uh fellatio on another man.” His ears and cheeks turned pinkish color, embarrassed to mention it.

Gasping, the blonde clutched his chest. “What kind of sick fucks would just do something like that in public!”

Theron’s eyes wandered from Anders to Fenris and back to Anders. He rubbed his temple and muttered, “Lethallen, no.”

  
“Do we just wait to find Sebastian, or go looking for the thief?” Anders asked, away from the other officers.

Fenris shrugged. “I already figured out who’s doing it.”

Anders’s mouth dropped. “What do you mean figured it out?”

“It’s Isabela,” he said. He showed Anders her response. “She said had nothing better to do than mess with people while she waited for her date. They’re at the haunted house.”

Anders stared at his phone, slack-jawed. “That bitch stole Sebastian from me! Again!” He sputtered.  
“What do you mean again? You just got the cat.”

He waved Fenris off. “I dated Seb in college, and she took him from me. It’s a long story, you don’t want to hear it.” And he was right for once. Throwing his arms up in defeat, Anders sighed. “Well, I guess we better find her. Lead the way, genius detective.”

The haunted house, or the Deeproads Nightmare, was meant for little kids. It was small and the outside was covered in bright purples and greens. Crude, cartoonish Darkspawn cutouts leaned against the side were far more attractive than the ancient beasts found in museums. And the house was more two trailers put together. Still, they waited for Isabela to come out with the oversized stuffed animal.

Anders picked at his fingernails and broke the silence. “How’s your next book coming along?”

Fenris sighed, rubbing his neck. “I have too much editing to do. My publisher says my years studying under Tethras is ‘showing again’ whatever that means.”

“So...too much smut and drama, not enough mystery-solving—ow! Stop that, your elbows are pointy!” The blond whined, rubbing his stomach.

“You know I don’t write porn,” he whispered the last word. “I write romance mysteries. There’s a difference.”

He earned a blank stare. “The last chapter you forced me to read was nothing but a wall of hard-steel cocks and soft, dripping cunts. I ain’t judging you. You pay for my cat figurine addiction. I’m just saying admit you write erotica.”

Fenris scoffed and crossed his arms. “Where’s Isabela? How long does short maze take?”

“Maybe she’s…she….” his words died, pulling Fenris’s attention.

He followed the mage’s gaze to the end of the house. Isabela was finally done. She wore one of her trademark short, white dresses. While she always found one that hugged her curves in the right ways, her natural beauty isn’t what stunned Anders into silence.

The man her arms she clung to like a vice was all too familiar. It wasn’t his tall stature, stern face, and dark skin made him stand out among the cheerful, stout Fereldens. No, it was the bright, ethereal cracks crawling across his skin and illuminating eyes that stood him apart from the mortals he walked among.

“Justice?” Anders screeched.

His fellow cop in question snapped his head, his eyes narrowing. “Anders?”  
Isabela gaped, looking between the two. “You two know each other?”

As they got closer, Justice explained, “I’m his captain on the force.”

“No fucking way!” She laughed. “So that’s why you carry handcuffs around! I thought you’re into kinky shit.”

“My only kink is justice.” It was hard to tell if he was being serious or actually joking. “Anders, why are you here?”

“I’m on a date…” he muttered, not fully recovered from his shock.

Fenris was, however. “Where’s Anders’s cat?”

“It’s in your car,” she admitted, grinning. “I broke into it, dumped the cat in there. Along with some pretty snazzy hats.”

Justice frowned. “Breaking into cars is illegal. You can get up to five years in jail—

She grabbed either side of his cheeks and pulled him down for a kiss. Justice took to it, pulling her short frame against his. When they broke from the air, the spirit turned on Anders, jabbing a finger in his face. “If you come in tomorrow with a hangover, I’m putting you on desk duty for the rest of the week.” He swung his arm around the thief and led her away.

She waved over her shoulder, “don’t forget to visit!”

Dumbfounded, Anders turned to face Fenris. He gestured after the retreating couple. “What?”

He grabbed the mage’s hand. “I know, amatus, I know. How about we skip the carnie show and go to the Crown and Lion? Would that make feel you feel better?”

Anders didn’t—couldn’t answer. His brain had malfunctioned. Fenris resisted the urge to sigh and led the blond out of the fair to the tavern. He was sunburnt, he had a pile of stolen hats in his car, and his mage was broken. Next time, he’s choosing their date. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for mago-emplumado over on tumblr http://mago-emplumado.tumblr.com
> 
> They won, along with someone else, the fenders giveaway. The other prises will be coming out soon, I'm just posting this one n advance because it's done.


End file.
